


Our Own Little French Club

by homosociallyyours



Series: Like One of Your French Girls [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Awkward Dates, F/F, First Dates, Girl Direction, Kissing, Miscommunication, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 14:53:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15317922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociallyyours/pseuds/homosociallyyours
Summary: It's a simple movie night. Or is it? Louis invites herself over to watch a movie with Harry, and the question of whether or not it's a date waits for an answer.





	Our Own Little French Club

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the [wordplay challenge](https://wordplayfics.tumblr.com/post/173502112548/wordplay-fic-challenge-2018-edition-about-the) week 2. The prompt was "hope" and the other fics in the challenge can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wordplay_hope/works). Thanks to the lovely [lululawrence](lululawrence.tumblr.com) for organizing this challenge!!
> 
> This is my first girl direction fic and I'm beyond excited to share it! Many thanks to my beta, [statementlou](statementlou.tumblr.com) for helping me get this fic in order. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do.

Harry sat at the table, trying to block out the sounds of everyone else leaving as she went over the meeting minutes one last time before putting them away. She’d only been French Club secretary for a couple of months, and as the only sophomore who’d been elected, the idea of doing a bad job with it was unacceptable. She might have stayed there for a few more minutes if it hadn’t been for someone sliding into the seat next to her and throwing a hand over the page she was looking at. 

“Overachiever,” Louis said, sliding the notebook away from Harry and pretending to study it closely herself. “S’no fun being in this club when you’re taking notes. You missed all the times I tried to make fun of Liam attempting to conduct the meeting in French after we all agreed English would make more sense.” 

Harry bit back a smile. “She was being so over the top! I did manage to catch most of what she said, and the responses to it, though.” Harry turned a few of the pages and pointed to a section she’d written in black instead of blue ink. “Here’s where she started making a proposal about International Student Day in French, and you--” 

“ ‘Louis makes a loud foghorn noise,’ ” Louis read aloud as Harry giggled. “ ‘Moves to have Sophia conduct the rest of the meeting IN ENGLISH (yelled), motion seconded by Perrie, carries.’ Very thorough!” 

“I tried to be,” Harry said with a shrug. “Anyway, you’ll just have to sit by me next time.” She felt Louis’ knee bump hers and looked down, chewing her lip and trying to think of anything but the trails of excitement that fizzed inside of her at the touch.

“That might require getting here early, which will only happen if my work study job changes. You know the Cow won’t let me leave a moment before 5 o’clock.” 

Louis’ boss was the Dean of Students, Simon Cowell, whose nickname Harry considered an insult to cows everywhere. “Yeah, he’d never. Wish you were in the library with me. It’s so much better.” 

“Maybe next semester. I requested it, anyway,” Louis said, clicking to the red ink of Harry’s four color pen and doodling in the margins of the notebook in front of her. With anyone else, Harry would’ve requested they move to a new page. But Louis? She could leave her mark wherever she liked. 

That thought spurred on a fantasy of Louis drawing a line up from Harry’s bare knee and under the soft fabric of her skirt, the pen skidding over her skin until Louis held it taut with her free hand. A free hand that could slide up, too. Up and--

“Hazza.” Louis’ voice interrupted Harry’s reverie and she closed her eyes to clear the images from her head. “Did you hear what I asked?” 

“Sorry, no, I was,” Harry waved her finger near her head. “Forgot to eat before the meeting. Just. Zoned out. What’d you say?” 

“Thought we could have our own French Club meeting,” Louis said, raising her eyebrows. “Watch Amelie. Have some ‘fronche fries’ maybe?” 

Harry laughed and nodded. “That would be fun. At yours?” Most of their movie nights happened in Louis’ dorm common room with an ever-changing group of girls coming and going throughout. 

“How about yours instead? Just us?” Louis asked, glancing up from Harry’s notebook where she was still busy doodling. 

“Um. Yeah, that’s-- sounds good. Tomorrow?” Harry’s brain fuzzed out and back in like radio static as she spoke, the faint sound of hope humming through her heart. 

“Was thinking Friday? At 8? Unless you’ve got a date or summat, in which case--” 

“No, no, no dates,” Harry said, cutting Louis off. “Friday’s great. Niall’s going home to see her family, so we won’t have to share the tv. S’perfect.” 

“Friday.” Louis grinned back at her as she stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, got a phone date with me mum tonight and she hates it when I don’t pick up right away. I’ll see you then.” 

Harry watched as Louis jogged out the door, hating herself for staring at Louis’ arse but completely incapable of making herself look away. When she was finally able to pull herself together, she looked down at the margin of her notebook. Louis had drawn a smiley face with Xs for eyes, its mouth opening up to swallow a stick figure with curls spiraling out of its head. She’d signed it with her name and a heart, and Harry traced her finger over it, smiling. Maybe she could have half a chance with Louis. Maybe her year-long crush wasn’t so stupid after all. 

It wasn’t until she’d had the time to pack up her things and eat dinner alone in the dining hall that the faint buzz of doubt began building around her. It grew as she walked all the way across campus to her dorm room, getting louder and louder with each echoing step in the stairwells until she finally made it home and found Niall sprawled on the loveseat they’d crammed into their room. Harry fell back against the door as she closed it, dropping her bag and waiting til she had Niall’s full attention before she spoke. 

“I might have a date with Louis Tomlinson this Friday,” she said, hoping Niall would grasp the gravity of the situation from just those few words. 

“Holy shit, Harry,” Niall said, not disappointing in the least. Harry flung herself onto the loveseat, her legs draped over Niall’s lap and Niall’s feet tucked under her bum, and waited for her to continue. “What do you mean you might have a date?” 

Harry recounted the whole exchange as best she could, watching as Niall immediately caught on to the problem that Harry had only considered after replaying the scene a few times in her own head. 

“So first you thought she wanted to watch a movie as friends, yeah?” Harry nodded, and Niall tapped one finger against Harry’s ankle as if she were tallying things up. “Then you started thinking about how it was a Friday, and she wanted to come here.” Niall gave two more taps as Harry nodded again. “And then you started worrying she’s not interested, and if you say something she’ll get weird and never wanna be around you alone again, right?” Harry nodded one last time and Niall patted her leg gently. 

“You’ve got yourself a classic lesbian not-date,” Niall said, shaking her head. 

“The fuck’s that?” Harry asked. 

“S’this thing lesbians do, or, well, any kind of queer person could do it, I s’pose, where you’re friends with a person, right? But they might be the kind of person you’d be attracted to, so when you make a plan to hang out with ‘em alone one person-- or both people sometimes, really --don’t know if it’s a date or not, so they spend the whole night tryin’ to just figure it out without coming right out and asking the other person.” 

“Lesbian not-date? It’s a really bad name for it,” Harry said, wrinkling her nose. 

“Amanda told me about it. The camp counselor I told ya ‘bout? She might’ve made it up, but it works to explain something that happens a lot, so I figure there’s no use messin’ around with what to call it.” 

Harry shrugged. “So what do I do? I can’t ask her, can I? Or like, text her something?” 

“You could,” Niall said. “But there’s a chance she’ll say it’s not a date. You’ve gotta be ready for that.” Niall looked at Harry, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 

“I’m so not ready for that,” Harry said, shaking her head. 

“So then you play it down the middle. Could go either way.” Harry wrinkled her nose and Niall continued to explain. “Make it half a date, half a hangout. Don’t dress up, but set a nice mood, maybe make a drink for the two of ya. Sit on the opposite side of the loveseat like you don’t wanna cuddle, but put your hand in between ya so she could hold it if she wanted to. Like that.” 

“I can do that,” Harry said, pausing to think it over. It really shouldn’t be too difficult. Louis had been out for such a long time-- since she was 15 or 16 --and probably had loads more experience than Harry, who’d realized she was queer only a year or so ago. Giving Louis the room to be the one to make a move would probably make it all easier. “I’ll just sort of let her take the lead.” 

In the day that passed before Friday came, Harry let her hopes build until she was humming and whirring, sparking and fizzing inside in a way that spilled into her walk, her smile, and even the spring of the messy bun she pulled up as she was getting ready for Louis to come over. She thought about Niall’s advice as she was deciding what to wear and almost put on a pair of pajamas, but then thought better of it. She ended up settling on her favorite matched bra and knickers set in a blushing shade of pink underneath a soft cotton t-shirt dress instead, hoping it didn’t come across as trying too hard. 

She turned on the toaster oven about twenty minutes before Louis was supposed to arrive, letting it warm up before she put the chips in, and pulled out a bottle of Gamay that had cost a few pounds more than she was used to spending on wine. She texted Niall a selfie holding the wine and the bag of frozen chips up expectantly and was happy when she immediately got a row of thumbs up emojis back in return. 

Fifteen minutes later, Louis was at her door, holding a bag of McDonald’s and a DVD copy of Amelie. “Realized on the way over here I didn’t ask if you have a DVD player,” she said as she walked in and set the bag of food down. “But I figured we can just watch it on Netflix or something if you don’t.” 

“I do,” Harry said, tugging at a curl that had come loose at the nape of her neck. “I didn’t expect you to bring the movie and food, though. Thought I should provide at least one.” As Louis pulled her jacket off Harry gave her a quick once over, trying to assess whether or not she’d dressed for a date or a hangout. She was wearing slightly ripped skinny jeans and a maroon t-shirt with a scooped neck that showed her collar bones and the tattoo she’d gotten over the summer. She looked gorgeous, but that was how she always looked. 

“Nah, it’s your couch we’ll be sitting on. Somebody threw a party in the common room last week and Zayn swore she saw someone puke on the couch, so s’not safe there,” Louis said, picking up the McDonald’s and taking it over to the couch to pull it out.

Harry tried not to let her disappointment show, but turned her back to Louis anyway. “Right,” she said. “Our loveseat hasn’t seen that sort of action.” She grabbed the bottle of wine and the opener and went to join Louis. 

“What sort of action has it seen, then?” 

“Um.” Harry plopped down on the middle of the loveseat, closer than she’d meant to sit to Louis but still not quite touching. “A lot of this, I guess,” she said, gesturing vaguely in front of her. 

“Oh,” Louis said, her voice higher than usual. “That’s. Good for your couch I suppose.” 

“S’technically a loveseat,” Harry said, trying to properly position the wine opener only to realize the wine she’d gotten was a screw top. “I bought French wine. Gamay. A 2017.” 

“That vintage is magnifique with MacDo, I’ve heard,” Louis said. 

“C’est si bon!” Harry said, mimicking the face Liam made whenever he spoke French, which looked like a mixture of confusion, complete concentration, and mild constipation. 

Louis burst out laughing, collapsing into Harry’s side so that her short hair was brushing against Harry’s neck and her hand rested on Harry’s thigh. “Liam can speak exclusively in French if you can do that impression at the next French Club meeting. Maybe save it til the end, though. She’ll hate it.” 

“I’d have to say you put me up to it. She’d never forgive me otherwise.” 

“Honestly Harry, you’d throw me under the bus like that?” Louis squeezed Harry’s knee playfully and Harry yelped. 

“The more you tease her the more she loves you. If I teased her I’m afraid she’d either cry or murder me.” 

“I’d protect you,” Louis said, squeezing Harry’s knee more gently this time before resting her hand there, her palm warm and heavy through the thin cotton of Harry’s dress. 

“We should start the movie,” Harry said, immediately cursing herself for not testing the waters a bit more as she felt Louis’ hand slide away from her leg. “No subtitles, right?” 

“Maybe subtitles. But we’ll see how we do first.” 

They turned off all but one lamp and pressed play, Louis returning to sit a little closer to Harry than she had before. They placed the bag of chips between the two of them, Harry dipping hers in ketchup while Louis ate them as they were, salty and still warm. When Amelie dipped her hand into a bin of grain for the pleasure of the sensation, Louis leaned in and whispered softly in Harry’s ear, “s’a bit like what we’re doing, innit?” her breath a warm tickle against Harry’s neck. 

The night went on just like that until the movie was over and the DVD menu was playing its pretty music on loop. The McDonald’s bag was empty, as was a container of biscuits and nearly all of the wine, and Harry still wasn’t sure if this was a date or not. She pulled at the hem of her dress and tried to sneak a look at Louis only to find Louis was watching her too. Harry leaned back on the couch and did her best to look away casually. 

Louis poured the last of the wine into her cup and offered it to Harry. “Share it?” Harry nodded and took a sip, passing it back to Louis. “What’d you think of the movie? You hadn’t seen it yet, yeah?” 

“Mm, no,” Harry said, tilting her head toward Louis, who then inched close enough that Harry could rest her head on Louis’ shoulder. “It was sweet, though. M’gonna watch it again for sure.” Louis took another sip of wine, careful not to disturb Harry but not making a move to do anything else, and in that moment Harry realized that she was being ridiculous. If Louis didn’t want this to be a date, it would hurt, but she could laugh it off and eventually get over it. It could maybe even be a story they told some time in the future, at a college reunion, maybe: we’d been friends for a year or two and then we had this movie night, and…

“I should probably go,” Louis said, not moving but disturbing Harry all the same. “You’re getting tired.” 

“No, it’s not-- I’m not,” Harry said, lifting her head and turning to face Louis. “You know, it’s probably silly, but after you asked about watching the movie together, I totally came back here to Niall and was like, wondering if this was a date or just us hanging out as friends. M’totally ridiculous, I know.” 

Louis bit her lip, holding back a small laugh. “You didn’t know?” she asked. “What’d Niall say?” 

Harry could feel her face turning red, and hoped that it was hidden by the dim light. “She called it a, um. God, it’s so silly. A lesbian not-date?” 

Louis laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Really? So like, when lesbians hang out but they don’t know if they’re friends or on a date?” Harry nodded, rolling her eyes as if the answer was now stupid and obvious even though it really, really wasn’t. “And what about now? Date? Not date?” 

“Umm, it’s, ah, yeah,” Harry paused, blowing out a long breath. “I’ve no idea. I hope it was? But like, if it wasn’t, that’s fine, m’not gonna be weird about it.” 

“I hope it was too,” Louis said, her smile crinkling up to the corners of her eyes. “I’ve fancied you for a while, Hazza. You’re smart and silly and pretty as fuck, an’ I think about kissing you pretty much any time you’re around, so.” Louis tilted her head down so she was looking up at Harry through her lashes, coy and hopeful. 

Harry couldn’t do much but stare back at Louis in wonder, her mouth open and a flurry of thoughts swirling through her head, none of them able to be articulated yet. 

“That a ‘me too’ then, love?” Louis asked, her hand brushing over Harry’s. 

“Yes, yeah, absolutely,” Harry said. “Since we met. You’re so confident. And you always know the best way to say things, like you’re funny but not just silly, clever too. An’ pretty, Lou, fuck, you’re pretty and you’re like, handsome? I hope that’s ok, just. M’not as good at saying everything as you, but--” 

“Please can I kiss you, Haz?” Louis had been moving slowly closer this whole time, and now she was right there, close enough that Harry could make out the freckles on her face even in the mostly dark room, and all Harry could do was nod once and let Louis tip even closer until their lips met in a tender brush that Harry could swear was as soft as fucking flower petals or butterfly wings, some kind of ethereal soft thing that she’d never expected to be so close to. 

Louis shifted her weight and Harry put an arm around her waist, tugging at her until she swung her knee onto the other side of Harry, straddling her. Then Louis’ mouth was back on hers, her kiss just as soft but not quite so delicate, her teeth tugging at Harry’s lower lip as she sucked it lightly. 

They pulled apart for a moment, both breathing heavily, and Louis laughed to herself. “Earlier I thought you were saying that you made out on this couch a lot, or like, had sex on it all the time? And I had this moment of being stupidly jealous and really hopeful that I’d be one of your couch conquests. An’ now? Here I am.” 

“Oh my god, I never do this,” Harry said, blushing at even the thought of being the kind of person who could’ve had their choice of hookups and makeout partners. “The closest I’ve gotten to a conquest is playing 7 Kingdoms with Niall, I swear.” 

Louis wiggled on Harry’s lap, seeming pleased with that answer, and Harry slid her fingers under the fabric of Louis’ shirt, digging into the soft skin under her ribs until she squealed and giggled. “M’so ticklish, baby, don’t,” she said through her laughter.

“Did you just call me baby?” Harry asked, wrapping her arms tighter around Louis and smoothing them up and down her back. 

“Maybe?” Louis leaned forward, brushing her nose against Harry’s. “If you liked it.” 

Harry pulled Louis in for another kiss, her tongue sliding against Louis’ and eliciting an urgent whimper that made her want to keep kissing until that sound was all Louis could make. She moved her hands up Louis’ back, feeling the fabric of her sports bra and wishing that she could see Louis, could lift her shirt off and touch her properly. 

Louis seemed to understand without Harry saying anything, leaning back to pull her shirt off and toss it to the side, looking down at Harry with a quick, “that ok?” and leaning back in to resume kissing Harry after a quick nod to say that it most certainly was ok. More than, really. 

With Louis’ shirt off, Harry let her hands roam over Louis’ exposed skin, from the muscles of her back and shoulders to the soft hairs on her stomach. The sports bra she was wearing didn’t allow Harry to really feel her breasts, but she slid her hands over them anyway, the slight give of them exciting in how different they were from Harry’s. She thumbed over Louis’ nipple experimentally and was rewarded with a gasp and a filthy grind against her lap that had her bucking her hips in search of friction. 

“Can you?” Louis asked, backing away for a moment and plucking at Harry’s dress. “Off? S’ok if you don’t--” 

Harry answered by tugging at the dress futilely, realizing quickly that she couldn’t take it off without having Louis move from her lap. Louis jumped up and took the dress from Harry’s hands as she pulled it over her head, folding it quickly and setting it in a chair before she moved to lie back against the couch, motioning for Harry to straddle her instead of going back to the way they’d been before. 

Harry hesitated for a moment. Most of the things she’d done up to now had been with boys-- fine, but awkward, and not really anything she felt terribly invested in --and all of it had been more clothed than not. Standing in front of Louis in knickers and a bra, even if they were the nicest ones she had, left her feeling exposed and vulnerable and not nearly experienced enough to be doing any of this. She wanted to, of course. Especially with Louis. She was definitely wet. Definitely interested. Just. 

“Nervous, baby?” Louis scooted back so that she was sitting up a bit straighter. “We can just keep kissing. S’only a first date.” Louis winked, and Harry bit back a giggle. “C’mere?” She spread her legs and motioned for Harry to sit between them and lean against her, and Harry complied, resting her head on Louis’ chest and her hand on Louis’ tummy as Louis nuzzled into her hair. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to kill the mood or anything,” Harry said. “I mean this is going loads better than I could’ve hoped, and I really wanna keep kissing you, but, um.” Harry trailed off, unsure what she even wanted to say or how best to say it. 

Louis brushed her fingers over Harry’s arm, goosebumps rising in the wake of her touch. “It’s really alright, love. We can do this, or we can kiss, or we can go to sleep. I’m just happy this worked out like it did. And ‘m hoping you’ll want more dates in the future. But I don’t have any expectations, yeah?” Her hand dropped to Harry’s back, where she began to play with the hair that had come loose from Harry’s bun, and Harry scooted closer, tipping her head up to get a kiss. 

Harry wanted more, she was sure. But knowing it didn’t need to happen right this moment or even that night was a relief. She relaxed into Louis, into her kiss, and let the rest of the world slide away.

**Author's Note:**

> Fic post coming soon (I had no wifi this weekend and was seeing Harry's last show! AHHHH!!!) but til then please go give the other fics a read and come say hi on [tumblr](homosociallyyours.tumblr.com).


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